Betting on Love

by Alyssa Linn Palmer

  This wasn’t her place.

  She picked up her phone, glancing at it before she slid it into her pocket. Still no signal. Once they hit Cardston tomorrow, she’d check for messages.

  “Come sit down, relax,” Elly said. Alex glanced up. Elly held out her hand, wiggling her fingers. Alex moved to the sofa and sank down next to Elly, resting her arm over Elly’s shoulders. Elly snuggled in, happily, and Alex started to relax, allowing herself to sink back into the soft cushions. She put her feet up on the edge of the coffee table. The rain rattled the eaves troughs.

  “This is nice,” Alex said, her voice low. Nice, but not her place.

  “It’s just about perfect,” Elly replied. She rested her head on Alex’s shoulder and Alex looked down at her, stiffening.

  Too much, too close. This wasn’t friends and occasional lovers but had veered into girlfriend territory, and the thought of being shackled made her stiffen further and pull away, easing Elly’s head from her shoulder.

  Elly shifted away, looking puzzled and a bit hurt, her expression bewildered.

  “Bathroom,” Alex said, rising. She headed toward the kitchen, pausing.

  “Turn left,” Elly said, “and just under the stairs.”

  “Right.”

  Alex locked the door behind her and stared into the mirror above the sink, a slight crack running partway down its side. She breathed deeply, but the tension wouldn’t leave her. She didn’t want to stay here in the middle of nowhere with Elly, who obviously wanted them to be more than what they were. It was a bad idea to come out here, and she didn’t know what she’d been thinking. By the time she exited, she was determined to convince Elly to go back to Calgary.

  Elly still sat on the sofa where Alex had left her, but she had picked up an old Reader’s Digest magazine and was flipping through it, pausing now and then to read a page.

  “I think we should head back,” Alex said, stopping at the edge of the living room where it met the kitchen. Purposely out of reach.

  “What for?” Elly frowned, putting down the magazine on a stack of others sitting on the coffee table. “We’ve hardly been here.”

  “It’s too quiet here,” Alex said, not wanting to bluntly say what was on her mind. “It’s driving me nuts, and I really need to check my messages.”

  “Parry’s hasn’t burned down,” Elly said, her voice sounding sharp for the first time, “and it’s not like being out of reach for one night will hurt.”

  “Maybe not to you,” Alex retorted, crossing her arms, and shifting from foot to foot.

  “If you need a phone, there’s one in the kitchen,” Elly said. “But I don’t want to go anywhere until tomorrow. Being on a motorcycle on the highway in the middle of the night is not my idea of fun.”

  “It’s perfectly safe.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Elly said. “Alex, just relax. Come sit down, and we’ll watch a movie or something.”

  Alex bit back her next words, knowing that even if she threatened it, she’d never knowingly strand someone without a vehicle, and Elly had no way of getting back to the city without her. “What movies do you have?” she asked reluctantly.

  “There’s a shelf there by the TV,” Elly said, gesturing. “Pick whichever one you want. I like them all.”

  Pushing down her frustration, Alex scanned the shelf. All VHS tapes, and all dating from the 80s and 90s. Not really her thing. She took a closer look and finally, for a lack of better choices, settled on Mrs. Doubtfire. If nothing else, the comedy would keep her distracted.

  “How’s this?” She held up the tape in its worn cardboard case.

  Elly brightened. “It was one of my favorites growing up.”

  Alex bent and put the tape into the dusty VCR and Elly turned on the TV. Alex watched the static give way to the film studio intros and then the opening credits. She turned, but instead of going to sit back down next to Elly, she chose the recliner. It creaked as she sat down and rocked back slightly, catching her by surprise. She heard Elly sigh but ignored it, focusing on the film.

  *

  The evening darkened into night, and Alex was glad that the film had kept her attention, though she occasionally would glance over at Elly, who watched the screen, smiling and laughing at all the important bits.

  When the film ended, Elly clicked off the TV and stretched, looking over at her. “I haven’t seen that in ages. Good pick.”

  “It was good.” Alex stifled a yawn. Elly rose to her feet, stretching again.

  “Come to bed?” Elly asked.

  Alex swallowed. Bed meant sleeping together, actually sleeping. Which meant that she wouldn’t sleep at all, and Elly would get the wrong idea.

  “Do you have a guest room?” Alex asked.

  “What? Yeah, we do, but you slept with me before. Why not now?”

  “I just don’t,” Alex said. She knew it was a cop-out, but the decision had been made.

  “Then why did you come here?” Elly asked, her voice becoming sharp again, strident. “Why did you even bother?”

  “I just don’t,” Alex repeated herself. “I can’t sleep with anyone else overnight. I don’t ever stay.”

  Elly crossed her arms over her chest. “Did you even want to come out here with me?”

  Alex wanted to answer yes, but she didn’t know why she’d suggested the trip. To get out on the bike, she supposed. Nothing drew her more than the open road.

  “It was a good ride,” she said, shrugging. “And I figured you might like the bike, but obviously you didn’t, from what you said to Mrs. Calderwood.”

  “So that’s what this is about? Some sort of stupid punishment?” Elly shook her head. “Fine. I’ll get out some clean sheets and you can make up the bed in the guest room. It’s down here.” She stalked off into the hall, and Alex heard the linoleum squeaking under her feet. Damn. That wasn’t what she’d meant to do, but there was no helping it now.

  *

  Elly woke when the sun filtered in through the windowpane, falling across the bed. She wanted to stay in bed, luxuriate in the warmth, in being at home, but then last night filtered back into her waking mind. She sighed and pushed the quilts off her, rising. She grabbed her robe from the end of the bed and put it on over her cotton nightdress. The stairs creaked as she went down to the kitchen and put the kettle on for tea. She drew her robe around her, peeking in on Alex, who still slept heavily, her dark hair a mess around her head, and moved out onto the front porch, breathing in the crisp morning air, seeing the light mist that hung over the fields. It would burn off soon enough, as the sun rose higher and the day grew warmer, but for now it seemed almost mystical, turning the freshly plowed field into a place where fairies might creep.

  She heard the whistle of the kettle and retreated indoors, hurrying to lift it from the burner. By the time she had the tea steeping and a piece of toast in the toaster, Alex had stumbled out of the bedroom, her hair still askew. It looked as if she’d pulled on last night’s clothes. She rubbed her eyes and pulled out a chair, settling in at the kitchen table.

  “Sleep well?” Elly asked, taking down two mugs from the cupboard.

  “Mostly. I woke up once, wasn’t sure where I was. I think it’s too quiet here for me.”

  Elly poured her a cup of tea and brought it over. She wanted to tell Alex to get out, but her mother’s hostessing rules kept her from saying anything. Never be rude to a guest. And maybe Alex would explain what had happened last night, really explain. “I love the quiet here,” she said, purposefully ignoring the elephant in the room. “I’m still not used to all the noise in the city.” Her toast popped and she went to butter it and smother it in raspberry jam.

  “You seem really at home here,” Alex said. “I’m surprised you left it.”

  Elly took a deep breath, focusing on smoothing the jam over her toast. She didn’t want to leave today, either. “I couldn’t make enough money to live out here,” she said finally.

  “Will you sell it once you find a job in town?”<
br />
  Sell. She couldn’t bear the thought, but Alex kept bringing it up.

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to. It’s home.”

  “Did you hear from that company you interviewed with?”

  Elly shook her head, bringing her toast and tea to the table. She sat down. “I hope I will soon. There’s toast, and cereal. I hadn’t thought to buy much else for breakfast since we weren’t staying longer.”

  “Toast is fine,” Alex said, but she didn’t move. She drank more of her tea. “When did you want to leave? I have to work at four o’clock, so we really should be out of here by ten. It’ll give us a bit of extra time, and then I can have an hour to relax before I have to work.”

  “Do you have a long shift?” Elly couldn’t imagine working after a day’s ride on the motorcycle.

  “Four until two. Or until whenever they let me go. Karaoke night is always busy. You going to come?”

  “Probably not,” Elly replied, apologetic.

  “Had enough singing for one lifetime?”

  Alex’s voice was teasing, but Elly still felt a flush rise.

  “I didn’t mind it that much, but I don’t think I could do it every week. Once a month, maybe, if that.” More, if Alex hadn’t been so cold. She bit into her toast, savoring the sweetness of the jam, the pop of the tiny seeds between her teeth.

  “I’ll get you back up onstage again,” Alex said.

  Elly didn’t answer; she finished eating her toast and took a gulp of her cooling tea.

  “Or not,” Alex added. “Unless you want to.”

  “Not this week.”

  Alex drank the last of her tea and rose, seeming awkward. “I’ll shower before we leave, if that’s all right. Do you have a hair dryer?”

  “In the cupboard,” Elly said. “And there should be towels in the closet next to the bathroom. Help yourself.”

  Alex put her cup in the sink and left, heading to grab her things, then to commandeer the bathroom. Elly leaned back in her chair, looking over the kitchen and into the living room. The quilt that rested over the back of the sofa was rumpled from when she’d sat there last night, and she rose to straighten it, smoothing out the wrinkles. Her mother had made that quilt, after her father had decided against the expense of new furniture. It hid some of the worn spots on the sofa’s upholstery.

  She was tempted to take the quilt with her as well, but her mother would have cringed to have the sofa looking old and ugly, so she left it where it was. The pipes rattled as Alex turned on the water, and Elly hurried upstairs to get changed and pack up her things. If Alex lingered in the shower, she’d have a bit of time to herself, to soak in the atmosphere, to sit out on the porch and watch the mist dissipate. She pulled on her clean underwear, bra, and shirt, and yesterday’s jeans, and stuffed the dirty ones into her bag. She made the bed and then headed back downstairs, dropping her bag at the foot. She moved out onto the porch and sat on the step, the boards cool under her stockinged feet. Birds chirped and rustled about in the nearby bushes, and when she looked across the fields, she could see a tractor the size of a thimble moving across the horizon. That must be Jack, already hard at work. Her father had done the same for years, getting up with the dawn and working until lunch. He’d eat a hearty meal, then be back at it for the afternoon.

  Elly leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Her parents had always hoped she’d have kids, and stay and work the land, but she never had. If she could, she’d stay, but she couldn’t work the land by herself. It was too much for one person, and she’d never known how her father did it all those years. She had helped with chores, and her mother had done a lot, but most of it had been her father’s blood, sweat, and tears keeping the food on the table.

  The screen door clattered behind her, but she didn’t turn.

  “You going to shower?” Alex asked, coming to sit next to her on the step. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair was still damp in parts, though she’d blown it mostly dry. “There should be enough water left.”

  “I’ll shower when I get home,” Elly said. Alex nodded.

  “It’s nice out here with the mist,” she observed. “Is that Jack out there?” She gestured to the tractor, which had come closer since she’d first seen it.

  “Should be,” Elly answered. “He’s leasing all the land, planting wheat. I figured it’d be better than just letting it sit unused. Plus his land abuts mine, so it’s easy for him to take care of.”

  “Would Jack buy the land if you wanted to sell it?”

  “He might, but I think he’s still hoping he’ll get it in other ways.” Elly rolled her eyes.

  “The old-fashioned way, huh? He does know that you don’t like men, right?” Alex chuckled.

  “He knows, but I think he considers it a phase or something, like he could convince me to change my mind.”

  Alex snorted. “Totally clueless.”

  They sat quietly for a while, until Elly began to feel stiff. She rose, and Alex rose with her.

  “Ready to go?” Alex asked. “It’s getting close to time.”

  “I guess so.” Elly knew she wasn’t really ready, but she didn’t have much other choice, not now.

  “We need to pack up those teacups,” Alex said. “Do you want to do that while I go get the bike ready?” She seemed to be kinder today, perhaps making amends for last night.

  “Sure.” Elly went back inside and Alex headed down the steps and around the side of the house. She found the cups where she’d left them on the table and began to rewrap them in the crumpled paper. By the time she’d finished, Alex had come back in and had put on her chaps and her leather jacket. Elly found a bit of newspaper and wrapped up the tomato salt and pepper shakers, placing them in the bag with the teacups.

  “Ready?” Alex asked, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

  “Ready.” Elly picked up the bag, and Alex took it from her.

  “I’ll get these put away, along with your overnight bag.”

  Elly followed her out to the front door, taking her borrowed leather chaps from the rail. She put them on, and then put on her jacket, scooping up her helmet from where it rested on the stairs. She glanced about, but they seemed to have gotten everything they needed. She’d call Jack later and let him know there was food in the fridge he could have.

  Exiting the house and turning the key in the lock, she felt a pang of sadness. Leaving again. She took a deep breath.

  The rumble of the motorcycle’s engine interrupted her thoughts. It was time to go.

  Chapter Nine

  A cardboard drink coaster ricocheted off the side of her forehead, the rounded corner digging in. Alex turned to bawl out the customer who dared to have such nerve and saw Will sitting at the bar. He made a face, and she made one back.

  “You jerk,” she said fondly, coming over to punch him in the arm, leaning over the bar.

  “You know it,” he replied. “Busy tonight?”

  “Always.” Fridays were the busiest, thanks to the karaoke. She didn’t normally mind, but the trip down south to Elly’s parents’ farm had been a long one, in more ways than one. She regretted the trip now. She should have stayed home, or gone riding on her own.

  “You were quiet the past few days—I thought for sure you’d want to go riding yesterday. I had the day off.”

  “I didn’t get your text till late,” Alex said. “I was out of town.”

  “Out of town? Since when?”

  “Thursday, until just a few hours ago. Elly and I went down to the farm.”

  Will started laughing.

  “What?”

  “You on a farm? I’d pay to see that, city girl, kicking cow shit off your boots. You missed a great ride out to the Minnewanka loop. We stopped for lunch at the Rose and Crown in Banff.”

  “We?”

  “Me and Reg. I called him when I hadn’t heard back from you.”

  “I couldn’t get any signal on my phone down there. It was pretty much the middle of nowhere, just south
of Cardston.”

  “Cardston? Mormon country, huh? Is Elly a Mormon?”

  “Don’t think so. But she never said one way or another. Do you want a drink? I need to catch those chits.” The machine behind the bar had spit out half a dozen drink orders in the time they’d been talking.

  “Bottle of Keith’s. And a plate of nachos, loaded.”

  Alex rang in his order and popped the cap on the bottle of beer, setting it in front of him. Then she grabbed the chits and got to work, pouring a screwdriver, a vodka soda, and four beers, then filling a pitcher. The karaoke wouldn’t start for another hour, but already things were picking up.

  Eric brought three cases of beer from the back, strong-arming them through the door and setting them down with a groan.

  “You don’t have to act all manly around me,” Alex teased, taking the top case from the stack and ripping open the cardboard. She knelt to stock the cooler.

  “I know I don’t have a chance with you,” Eric replied, wiping his forehead. “You and Will are tight as always, even though you keep cheating on him with those girls.”

  “It’s not cheating,” Alex retorted. She didn’t care to explain it to Eric, but it wasn’t like that. She and Will had an understanding. That had always been the way.

  “Whatever you say.” Eric shrugged. “I was hoping to impress Charity, actually, but just my luck, she wasn’t close enough to see.”

  “It’ll take a bit more than hefting some beer to impress her, I think,” Alex replied, “but it’s worth a try.”

  “If you can talk me up to her…”

  Alex snorted. “Do that yourself, lover boy.” She pulled the next chit from the machine and put it in front of her on the mat, grabbing a pint glass from the rack. She mixed up the Caesar and handed it to the waitress who waited.

  Bruce and his assistant Ron finished setting up their karaoke gear and he came over to the bar, plopping himself down on a stool. “Bourbon and cola, Alex, if you would.” She poured the drink and set it in front of him. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” He took a deep draft. “You going to sing tonight?”